


A Dear Friend (With Very Soft Lips)

by viajera_pensativa



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It of Sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 22:49:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19778062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viajera_pensativa/pseuds/viajera_pensativa
Summary: What might have happened if that vamp didn't show up in S2E1.





	A Dear Friend (With Very Soft Lips)

**Author's Note:**

> This came to me as a plot bunny while doing some rewatch research for a different story idea. It kinda got away from me and went in a different direction than I imagined, more serious. I might write an alternate version that is more fun.
> 
> Written at 3am. Any corrections for typos etc welcome in notes. please be kind.

Willow was so confused. She didn't know how Xander could go from talking about lingering feelings for Buffy one moment, and trying to lick her 'tasty' nose the next. He was flirting with her, and although it made Willow feel bad about herself for being his second choice, she had longed for him for so long that she couldn't say no when his face came in closer to hers, as if for a kiss. Was this finally happening? She could feel his hand on the side of her, gently touching her hair. Could see the softness of his lips a few inches away.

Then he looked down, tilting his mouth away from any potential conflict. His hand was still on her hair, though. 

"Is this the part where you pull away and pretend like this never happened?" she asked in her cutesy voice that she used to say insightful and potentially provocative things disarmingly. 

"Willow, I --" Xander gulped. "It's just--." Damn. Still no words were coming. He could playfully banter all day long, even confidently hit on Buffy despite her obvious lack of interest, but with Willow.... His throat seemed to close up, preventing him from talking.

She was waiting, her heat beating fast, sweat trickling down her sides. For a moment, it seemed like her dream was finally coming true. But of course it couldn't be that simple, as much as she wanted it to be. 

Eventually Xander spoke. "We've been friends for so long, Wil. I think--thought--have thought of you as a sister." Willow's heart sank at this, her eyes following, looking at her lap. "It's weird to see you differently than that." Her heart rose back up a little. 

"So...you're saying that you do see me differently now?" The cutesiness was still present as she asked this, but she tried to drop her guard a bit. 

Xander was out of his depth. It was easy to joke around about girls he didn't think he actually had a chance with. But this was real, and it scared him--though he didn't want to admit it. 

"I think I might," he finally managed to get out, that throat-blocky feeling still present. "But what if I'm wrong? I don't want to...hurt you." _Or myself_ , a wiser, older Xander might have acknowledged. 

"You think it doesn't hurt pining after you all this time?" Willow responded. She tried to make it sound almost like a joke, but it came out sounding resentful. Xander looked away. His head was swimming. He felt foggy. Suddenly his dad's voice, yelling at his mom earlier that day, was running through his head, more present than the evening air. His hand had fallen from the side of Wil's head to the concrete ledge on which she was perched, he was not sure when. 

Willow watched him. He didn't say anything for a moment, and his face had changed a lot in the past few moments. His eyes looked very distant, and he seemed to wobble a bit where he stood. Although she was still exceedingly disappointed that this had not gone in the kissy direction she'd hoped, gradually concern for her friend rose above her own disappointment. "Hey, Xan, you OK...buddy?" she threw that in to take the pressure off, and reached her hand for the top of his shoulder, projecting as much platonic-ness as she could. 

For a moment, he still stared into the distance. Then he sort of jerked, meeting her eyes and seeming almost surprised to find her there. The next second, he did something she never expected: he slumped into her, pushing his face into her shoulder and letting his longer-than-hers torso go awkwardly limp against her. A heaving sigh came out of him, pushing hot breath against her skin, but it wasn't remotely sexy. Her arms came up around his back, her hand patting and rubbing him tentatively. 

After a few minutes, during which Xander tried to let himself cry but couldn't, he lifted his head up and looked at her again. "Sorry. Bad fight at home today. Suddenly remembered it out of the blue. Terrible timing, huh?" He attempted a half-grin, but his eyes were still sad. Willow's hands had slipped onto his arms as he pulled away, but she was still rubbing him comfortingly. "Look, Wil. I can't promise anything. It's different with us. Not _romantic_. Being close to you...I don't think it can _distract_ me from the bad things. But it does comfort me." He took another heaving sigh. "If you're OK with that...we can try."

"Try what?" she asked cautiously.

"How about...a kiss, to start?" He looked in her eyes. Their hands had become entwined, and she gave his a squeeze, pulling him a bit closer. Their lips met, and his were indeed very soft. But this was no longer flirtatious. Rather, it was very tender. Mouths stayed relatively closed, their lips nuzzling each other more than anything. When the kiss felt complete, they wrapped arms around each other and leaned in close, holding each other tight. 

Willow knew now he had been right when he said it was 'different' with her. Despite their years of friendship, and also because of it, this felt too intimate. You don't hold someone as they almost-cry on a first date. But at least she was no longer worried about rejection, or what would happen tomorrow. Even if they never kissed again, this was her Xander. They had been there for each other for years, and they would continue to be for years to come. The little-girl part of her that wanted that fairy tale romance with the boy-next-door might be sad, but Willow had something more important. She had a friend.

 _With very soft lips_ , part of her brain noted.

***

In the shadows of the cemetery, Buffy made out the shapes of her friends. She had just returned from her summer trip to see her dad, and decided to patrol first thing; make sure the vamps hadn't gotten too out of control in her absence (although she'd more than made up for it in LA, where the nests in her dad's neighborhood had taken a serious hit). Lucky she did so, as she'd headed off a few that could have made their way over to Willow and Xander. She'd have to lecture them tomorrow about walking around in the dark on the Hellmouth. But for now they seemed to be having a private moment. Though she didn't like feeling like she was spying, she could neither bring herself to interrupt, nor to leave them unguarded. She would watch them from the darkness and make sure they got home safe, however long it took.

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to leave feedback, One easy format that I appreciate is "rose, bud, thorn":
> 
> Rose: Something that worked well  
> Bud: Something that had potential and could be developed more  
> Thorn: Something that didn't work so well.


End file.
